2001-08-15 - 12:03 p.m.

I have to admit that the main reason I keep the AIM newsticker running on my desktop all day long is to get the entertainment news as it happens. I really do need to know any breaking stories about the West Wing, Woody Allen, and who may have died today. Of course, the hard part of this is that, just when you want to take a moment for Jack Lemmon, to use a recent example, someone will ask you to clean out the office supply cabinet. Which tends to make one very bitter and hate one's lame job even more.

So, what happens is, I am either richly rewarded with AP wires buzzing with stories on subjects like those I listed above, or irritated as hell by blurbs like:

"Cruz and Cruise Arm-in-Arm at 'Correlli's' Premiere," or, "First AIM Headline to Tick Me the Hell Off Today."

Why does this headline tick me off? Well, seeing as how they have the same last name, I smell a little eau de publicity stunt lingering when I click on this headline. Add to that the fact that he just got divorced because he is a scientologist, and I don't want Penelope Cruz with a scientologist. I like her. I liked her way before she got to Hollywood. I liked her so much, I've decided to forgive her for "Woman On Top." I'm happy to remember her as the neophyte from "Belle Epoque." Remember "Belle Epoque?" I thought not. AND another thing: this article, under a slightly different headline, ran accross the ticker yesterday. So this is obviously all we are going to hear about for a long freakin' time. Park your gag reflexes at the door, ladies and gentlemen.

Better still:

"Romijn-Stamos Stays Fit Walking Dog," or, "Second AIM Headline to Tick Me the Hell Off Today."

Okay, moving beyond my natural anger at anyone expecting newsreaders to care about someone who hyphenated her name because she was on any level proud to be married to John Stamos, this, too, is a lie. Models do not stay fit by walking their dogs. That is not how life works.

In other news, fresh off the elation of being asked to co-author a paper with the associate provost, Da Boss-Lady inturrupted my research by deciding that a certain closet in our office was driving her crazy, even though she rarely, if ever goes in it. So I am once again "Chambermaid Fun Jenn," complete with way too many platic forks, and a scowl that changes to a pout in cool water.

I also discovered I can't pee with Penny Hatpin outside of the stall. I get so paranoid that, if she doesn't hear any peeing, she will tell the provost or somebody that I go into the bathroom to waste time, smoke up, plot the overthrow of Warner Hall, anything but work. And then I can't pee until she leaves.

This is so, so hard for me, because I have spent my life in secret scorn of anyone who had issues about where they went to the bathroom, or couldn't pee when they were nervous, or others could hear - you know what I mean.

And now I am like that.

She's evil, I tell you. EEEEEEVVEEEL!

What I'm wearing:

What I'm reading:

What I'm doing after this: